


What Happens in Vegas

by panda_hiiro



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: April Showers 2015, Las Vegas Wedding, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 03:54:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3836059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panda_hiiro/pseuds/panda_hiiro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shizuo wakes up with a ring on his left hand and one hell of a hangover.</p>
<p>Oh, and Izaya Orihara, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Happens in Vegas

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the DRRR!! kink meme back in 2011! I think this is the first time I've posted it off anon. The prompt was "getting drunk and waking up married."

The first thing Shizuo Heiwajima is aware of, upon waking, is a bone-splitting, soul-searing headache. He’s not entirely sure how many tons of alcohol he must have consumed the night before, but it must have been a literal fucking lake to give him a hangover  _this_  heinous.

The second thing is an overwhelming wave of nausea, but this has much less to do with the hangover and more to do with the warm, sleeping body lying next to him. It takes a moment for it to really sink in who it is, and even after it does Shizuo just does not want to believe this is possible.

Orihara Izaya is sleeping next to him.

Oriahara  _fucking_  Izaya.

To make matters worse, he’s naked (and, Shizuo realizes, belatedly, so is he), save for what looks like a bridal veil made out of cheap, shiny tulle stuck crookedly in his short, black hair. There’s glitter on his face, and dammit, he even smirks while he’s  _sleeping_.

Shizuo starts to get a grip on his surroundings, now that the horror is truly taking root. He doesn’t recognize the room, but they are obviously in a hotel somewhere: one bed, cheap carpeting, bland wallpaper. Totally anonymous. Their clothes are mixed together in a messy pile all over the floor. Despite his best attempts, he can't remember much of the night before, just little snippets here and there, like

 

_sweat and their bodies moving together, sharp gasps and muttered curses, Izaya's legs spread wide to take all of him in_

 

and

 

_thrusting just a little too sharp, a little too hard - Izaya bites him for that, hard enough to draw blood, and when Shizuo swears at him Izaya just laughs_

 

and

 

_their hands resting on top of each other, each one of them bearing an identical ring_

 

...No, no, no, this could not be happening. Shizuo shakes his head to desperately try and dislodge the half-memories. Surely, he was still dreaming - surely, he would wake up in his own apartment, and he could blame all of this on some questionable sushi he'd gotten from Simon. Surely...

"Well, good morning, darling." 

There's a mini-fridge in the room. Shizuo doesn't even think before heaving it at Izaya who, despite having just woken up, dodges it easily. The fridge crashes into the wall and sticks there, mysteriously. 

"That's no way to treat your blushing bride," Izaya says, dryly, shamelessly picking himself up and stretching with a great yawn. 

"You.  ** _You._**  I am going. To rip. Your fucking.  _HEAD OFF!_ " 

"I don't think even you could get away with murdering your spouse, Shizu-chan." Izaya grins, and primly adjusts the little veil on his head. "Now, why don't we sit down like a civilized couple and have some coffee together?" 

Shizuo just  _deflates_ , too overcome with shock to even be properly angry anymore. So, this was really happening. Still, there must be a way out of this - was it even legal for two men to get married? Could you get something that wasn't legal annulled? What if he just pretended it never happened? 

But, no, no fucking way is Izaya going to let  _that_  go.

Shizuo drops into a chair, and levels his best glare - the kind that would have sent lesser men screaming - at his...spouse. 

"You have a  _lot_  of fucking explaining to do."

 

* * *

 

Orihara Izaya explains.

 

* * *

  
Shizuo was already well on his way to drunken oblivion by the time Izaya found him, alone and nursing a glass of liquor at the far end of the bar. It only took a few more anonymous shots sent his way for the blond to be good and wasted, and that's when Izaya slid up next to him, all casual and nonchalant.   
  
"Fancy seeing you here, Shizu-chan."   
  
" _You._  Fuck off. I'm not in the mood to deal with you."   
  
"Such a cold reception. You could thank me for the drinks."   
  
"I  _could_  smash your stupid face in."   
  
"But you won't, because you'd miss me if I was gone," Izaya said, with a grand gesture of his hand. "And, besides, it's not like you could catch me, anyway."   
  
Shizuo grumbled something incoherent, and downed the last bit of liquor in his glass. He was quiet for a while, longer than Izaya thought he'd ever been around him - usually their meetings were full of dodged missiles and screamed threats, but tonight there was some subtle difference about the blond. Perhaps he was more of a lightweight than Izaya had pegged him for.   
  
"Maybe I would. Miss you, I mean," Shizuo said, staring at the bar with a concentrated little frown on his face. "What is it they say about love and hate? I think there's something they say about that. Fuck it, I dunno. I think I'm drunk, but what I'm trying to say is, I'm pretty much stuck with you, and it'd be weird if you weren't here. Although I still think I wanna kill you most of the time."   
  
The statement was surprisingly eloquent, by Shizuo-standards, anyway. It took Izaya a moment to fully process it, and the meaning behind it - they were meant for each other, was that what he was trying to say? What a novel concept.   
  
"The feeling is mutual, Shizu-chan," Izaya said, looping an arm around the blond's shoulders, "Including the part about wanting to kill you. Now, why don't we go out together and get a good look at the humanity wandering the streets tonight?"   
  
Izaya imagined there would be talk, later, of how the two of them stumbled out into the night  _together_  - and the thought of how mortified Shizuo would be over it was nothing short of delicious. At that point he didn't have any real plans yet, aside from amusing himself by watching the blond beast in his drunken stupor - Izaya himself was not drunk, not in the least, which made this even better - but he had to admit that the chapel hadn't factored into any of his wildest imaginations. But Izaya's policy was never to let a good opportunity pass him by, and this one was nothing short of  _priceless_.   
  
What really surprised him, however, was that  _Shizuo_  was the one who proposed.  
  
“Let’s do it,” the blond said, with sudden sobriety, “Let’s get married.”  
  
"Married?  _Us?_ "  
  
"Yeah. Us."   
  
“Right now?”  
  
“Yeah. Right here. Right now. C’mon.”  
  
Shizuo’s hand was on his wrist, tugging him along. Surely, there was a way to turn this to his advantage – of course there was, and that was the only reason he went along with it. Or so Izaya thought to himself, just a little shell-shocked as they entered the strange, impromptu chapel. The ‘priest’ spoke very bad Japanese, and was obviously wearing a costume of some sort rather than official robes. Izaya stole a tacky bridal veil off a mannequin in the foyer, and proudly crowned it on his head. Shizuo looked surprisingly good – it wasn’t quite a tuxedo, but for once the bartender get-up didn’t look completely ridiculous. A very brief, informal ceremony, followed by those infamous words:  
  
"You may now kiss the bride."   
  
Shizuo kissed him with much more passion than Izaya was expecting - and, though he didn't plan on admitting this, it wasn't all that  _bad_  - then hoisted Izaya off his feet and carried him out of the chapel.  
  
Izaya couldn't help wondering how he'd never realized just how  _interesting_  a night with Shizuo could be.

 

* * *

 

He pauses.  
  
It's been nothing short of beautiful to watch the emotions flickering across that stupid beast Shizuo’s face – shock, confusion, anger. Mostly anger. Izaya is actually surprised that he hasn’t had to dodge any more flying objects.   
  
There’s more that Izaya isn’t saying, more that he had planned to use – but somehow, he can’t bring himself to talk about it.  
  
_”Don’ wanna hurt you.” Izaya can barely make out the words, slurred and muffled by Shizuo hiding his face against Izaya’s chest._  
  
_“Don’t be ridiculous. Haven’t you figured out by now that you **can’t**  hurt me?”_  
  
_An unintelligible sound, halfway between a grunt and a snort. Izaya frames his hands around Shizuo’s face, raising it to face him, and then presses a surprisingly kind kiss to his mouth._  
  
_“Come on.”_  
  
_It does hurt – he can’t deny that, and it’s more than a little irritating just how clumsy Shizuo is. Not that he would have expected anything else from the big oaf – and it’s kind of a wonder, anyway, that he hasn’t passed out in a drunken stupor yet._  
  
_But there is a connection here, something he doesn't have a name for._  
  
_Whatever it is, it isn't love._  
  
_It isn't love._  


* * *

  
  
Shizuo is very quiet, staring at the floor with his face obscured by messy blond bangs. For a moment, just a very brief moment, Izaya feels this strange urge to reach out to him – just to touch him, just to be close to him. It is very strange, since Orihara Izaya has never wanted to be close to anyone before.  
  
“Dammit.”  
  
He blinks, cocks his head to the side, and stares at the blond, who, he now realizes, is tugging at the ring on his finger.  
  
“Why. Won’t. This.  _Come off?!_ ”  
  
There follows a few frustrated grunting noises as Shizuo tries, and fails, to remove the offending ring. Izaya stands with a grand motion, and resumes his usual smirk.  
  
“It’s amazing how well cyanoacrylate bonds to skin, isn’t it?  
  
“The hell? What does  _that_  mean?”  
  
“It means I super-glued that ring to your finger, my darling.”  
  
Izaya kisses the ring on his own hand, and twirls away – just before the heavy objects start flying.


End file.
